#it makes the process so much smoother
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I get to show my family a movie tonight and I don’t know whether to show them
- A Fairy Tale After All (horrible fever dream with musical numbers and puppets and a plot that doesn’t make ANY sense),
- Emily and the Magical Journey (weird kid’s fantasy movie that’s very nonsensical)
- Teen Knight (charlie and the chocolate factory except the kids get transported back to medieval england where magic is real)
- Joseph the Dreamer (my absolute beloved. musical about Joseph from the philippines but the only recording that exists is lowkey racist and from 1979 and my family has mostly already seen. if i don’t show it to my family i will be watching it on my own tonight)
- Seasons of Gray (a retelling of Joseph made by some church in modern day Texas. very dramatic and slightly problematic. my mother watched it with me on my birthday last year)
pls let me know your votes I’m so torn. I’m pretty sure I reviewed the first three on the list on this blog
#also tumblr give me polls you cowards#my movie decision making process would go so much smoother#claire yells to the void
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ah see i had a better idea for a time loop soulmate au. initially i thought about the loops being chucks drafts but thinking about it from the perspective of a heaven without a god, what if it’s the angels’ drafts. they’re a product of chucks absence, like say the angels know there is a perfect match for every human, but without the strength of god they can’t get things right the first time. like cupids, but instead of sending someone down to make two people fall in love, theyre frantically rewinding time for two people and hoping they eventually get it right.
so when michaels in a loop, is heaven in a loop too? do other angels know he’s apparently soulmates with a human and are too scared to tell him? or do they just know adam is supposed to meet someone but cant see who so they just keep rewinding time for him like sorry little guy i hope u figure it out first. would michael still think the loop is god’s distant approval of his scheme to get dean to say yes, or would he be stomping through heaven like ‘idk who is responsible for this mixup but if i have to relive this day one more time someone is joining lucifer in the cage!’ (which, technically, he’s responsible for the loop just by being adam’s soulmate, or adam’s responsible by being his, and they do end up in the cage so he did make good on that threat)
but then also if michael thinks it’s a mixup or that he was just randomly sucked into this loop because it was about the guy he was using as bait then well um when adam asks about it in the cage michael would just say. it was an accident. and they’d move on. so they get out of the cage thinking adam has a soulmate he was supposed to meet that day. but eventually, maybe in the empty! michael’s awake missing his bestie and an angel is like yo dude what’s it like having a soulmate. michael’s like come again. angel is like yeah dude u were in that time loop we were all so scared to tell u that u had a soulmate and he was human but idk u got out of it so we figured you knew. and thats when michael rips himself out of the empty all adam holy shit hello here i am! <3
idk i just think soulmate aus in chucks world are sooo much fun.
#ive been into this st time loop fic#not soulmates#but it got me thinking#oh the futility#oh the presence of angels#would jack keep soulmates a thing#or would he make the process smoother#see sooooo much to think about#mine#id write this if i could. knowing myself i wouldn’t even write the time loops which is the whole point#so i will just rotate it <3#midam#soulmate aus
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BIG CC UPDATE *DEC 2023
✅ PRESETS CHANGELOG
fixed broken presets after the "rent" patch (from child to elders);
I fixed the broken presets only for the child-elders ages. But, as you know, all the presets for the toddlers were broken too because EA added eyelashes to them. I don't have presets specially made for toddlers, but some presets made for other ages used to be displayed in this age category, I removed them from this category because they don't fit this age category anyway. I left only the ears in this category. I will fix these ears for the category of toddlers as soon as it possible (and if possible).
added compatibility with some type of custom clothes cc to FEMALE HEAD SHAPE PRESETS N1-8 (the problem of holes in the neck);
3 new files have been added (CHILD EYES PRESETS N1-2 FOR FEMALES TEEN-ELDERS, NOSE PRESET F N28-33 FOR FOR CHILDREN and NOSE PRESETS F N18-27 FOR CHILDREN).
✅ SKINS and FACE MASKS CHANGELOG
added new additional cleaner and smoother texture options to some old skins and face mask overlays:
- SKIN N4, SKIN N7, SKIN N8, SKIN N9, SKIN N10 (A and B), SKIN N11, SKIN N12, CHILD SKIN N1, SKIN FOR TODDLERS AND INFANTS N1-2 OVERLAYS;
- MICHAEL, NOAH and JAESUNG face mask overlays;
I see that many of you are still using my old skins, so I decided to update them a bit.
I changed mostly the faces. Some overlay skins have undergone very strong changes and now, I think, they look much better. Don't worry, the old options are still there and they won't be reset from your sims.
the old skins are now available for the "opposite frame", this is necessary if you want to make a gender transition for your character ;
SWEET СARTOONNY SKINBLEND A and B was fixed for a new patch (for the correct display of the added EA eyelashes);
added a non-hq version for old skins;
added compatibility of old skins and face masks with my new cc;
added new thumbnails to all skins just because I wanted everything to look the same style and I'm tired of these black and white pictures of old overlays.
✅ SKIN TONES CHANGELOG
Fixed an issue with completely black newborns with SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES;
Unfortunately, to solve this problem, I had to recreate the file for SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES. So when you download the updated version, this cc will be reset from your sims. This applies only to SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES and HETEROCHROMIA EYES. The rest of the files listed in this post will not be reset from your sims.
Added a tanning and burn functions to all my skin tones.
✅ HETEROCHROMIA EYES
fixed after the patch (the problem with the hand).
Unfortunately, to solve this problem, I had to recreate the file for HETEROCHROMIA EYES. So when you download the updated version, this cc will be reset from your sims. This applies only to SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES and HETEROCHROMIA EYES. The rest of the files listed in this post will not be reset from your sims.
All the files in all the posts have also been updated. There are really a lot of updates this time. I hope you all are not tired of this, ha-ha.
By the way, I'm going to start working on BETTER IN-GAME LIGHTING MOD v2. So you can write your wishes and suggestions!
MORE INFO AND DOWNLOAD
Any likes and reblogs is honestly appreciated! 💘
Thank you for supporting the development process!
#s4cc#ts4cc#s4cc maxis match#s4 maxis match#sims 4 maxis cc#ts4 mm cc#s4 mm cc#s4mm#ts4 genetics#s4 skin#s4cc mods#s4 preset#ts4 preset#ts4cc female#ts4cc male#sims 4 cc
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A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)
An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful
Word Count: 10.3k
I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing
Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm
From the desk of Ginevra
My dearest friend,
My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious.
My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter.
I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends.
I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly.
Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree.
I love you, my friend.
Ginny
From the office of Lorenzo
Miss. L/n,
I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world.
You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you.
Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother.
Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect.
For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.
Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.
I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.
I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.
Lorenzo Berkshire
P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.
From the office of L/n
Daughter,
You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.
We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing.
Your father
From the desk of Ginevra
Y/n,
You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright.
Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.
Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.
Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.
Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well.
Best wishes,
Ginny
P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable.
***
Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.
The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated.
For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.
But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close.
Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms.
The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows.
Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’
No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were.
The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”
Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.”
Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth.
As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.
***
“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.
“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family.
“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.
“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”
Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”
Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?”
Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…”
She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”
You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son.
While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.
Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.
The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.
“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy.
Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.
Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?
If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.
Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue.
Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…”
He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger.
It seemed too concrete to fathom.
Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.
***
Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.
In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed.
Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.
Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates.
You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.
You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?
While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.
It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.
With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care.
Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.
Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.
You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.
Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.
“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him.
You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.
As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.
You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”
He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.
You simply uttered, “okay.”
Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.
A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.
Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.
“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.
Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour.
“Goodnight,” you reiterated.
Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you.
He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?”
It was too late now to apologise.
***
Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?”
“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”
“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.”
Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.”
You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”
He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”
“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”
Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”
After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”
His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”
“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”
Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”
Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.
Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”
For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”
He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”
“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.
He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.
Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.
Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him.
Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence.
One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.
A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library.
After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?”
Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”
Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.
You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.
Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”
You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”
Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.
You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”
Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”
As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.
Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”
Mattheo saw red.
He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.”
Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm.
Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze.
“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.
Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.
You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”
Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.”
“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied.
Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”
“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”
Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.
After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene.
You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.
Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.
You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up.
After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”
“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall.
Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him.
You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”
Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.
You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”
Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.
***
Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”
The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read.
Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.
“Reading,” you said simply.
Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.
“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”
Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”
“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.
Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.
One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?”
You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”
Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered.
“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.
He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble.
You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.
He rather liked it when you smiled.
***
“Are you alright?”
You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”
Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”
“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly.
“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”
You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?”
You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.
“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.
Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer."
There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?”
Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.
He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children.
You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.
Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.
“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.
Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less."
“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously.
Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.
You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”
Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."
“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”
"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?"
“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.
Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you.
Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”
Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much…
Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how.
"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune.
“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.
"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."
***
The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.
It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted.
There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.
Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.
“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.
“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.
“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.
“How was the dinner?”
Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”
“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.
“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”
“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”
Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”
A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”
Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin.
“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.”
Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”
Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”
“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss.
His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his.
Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”
Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”
“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.
You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”
Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”
***
The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.
“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.
Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”
“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”
“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.
Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!”
Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”
“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.
“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”
“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid.
“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”
Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.
Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”
“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”
“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck.
“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes.
“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?” Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline.
You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.
“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.
Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”
“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled.
“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.
“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”
Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.
“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”
Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”
“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”
“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.
Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”
You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”
“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.
You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”
“Always.”
#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle#reader#x reader#tom riddle#ginny weasley#harry potter#lorenzo berkshire#bellatrix lestrange#hermione granger#pansy parkinson#shes a great aunt#draco malfoy#sirius black#remus lupin#blaise zabini#theodore nott#albus severus potter#arranged marriage#one bed trope#enemies to lovers#greek mythology#victorian au#manipulative parents#Tom isn't Mattheo's brother#hope yall like
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(if you have the time or want to) could you go into more detail about how your future donnie design is based on future leo’s canon design? maybe the decision making or thought processes that went into it, or scrapped design ideas for him? i love character design, especially seeing the choices made along the way, and your future donnie is delightful!
Oooohohohohoho
So!
I wanted the story to be compatible with canon. Which means the characters should feel and look canon, right?
It's really sad that Donnie doesn't have a canon design. Not so sad is the fact that his clothing style definitely has a pattern. Just..Look at them
So when I thought "hmmmm, how would adult Donnie dress?" my first thought was to look at adult Leo's clothes~
But I also wanted Donnie to be able to fly. So no cape or any long fabric for him.
As a result, yes, Donnie wears pretty much the same stuff but slightly different style. And purple. Obviously lol
I also tried to take geometry and shapes into account. Leo's design contains smoother yet sharp elements. Donnie's design is more squarish and angular.
But none of that negates the fact that I originally made up this design thinking I was only using it for a 🤌two-page mini comic🤌.
Which means that an impressive percentage of my decisions were driven by the " fuck it, we ball" mindset. His wrist monitor disappeared because I was too lazy to draw it. That logo on his belt existed only in my thoughts, I was too lazy to draw it too. His goatee is pure design flex of mine. I thought it would be funny
And this is pretty much it haha
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// The Cycle //
(au details below)
After his banishment from The Gods' Plane, Grimm is too weak to sustain his physical form indefinitely. As a result, his physical body is stuck in an endless cycle of death and rebirth, as its lifespan is limited and its powers are limited
The Nightmare King, and his physical body, Troupe Master Grimm, are the same being separated by the barrier between the physica world and his nightmare realm. They exist simultaneously, they share thoughts, memories and personality traits, although their physical appearance differs - the physical body is smaller, its body lacks the extensive fluff, and is more organic in nature. Within the nightmare realm and with the Nightmare Heart's power, Grimm has full control over the body's physical and physiological aspects, and so its appearance may change following each ritual if he so desires. However, each body withers away over time, and thus it must be replaced periodically. Unfortunately, with the Heart's limited power, the vessel must spawn in a reduced form and grow with the help of his troupe (or any volunteer). Collecting nightmare flame speeds up the process, as does the presence of the previous body, which then gets consumed by flame and replaced by the new vessel
---
Stage I ("Grimmspawn") - the vessel that spawns from the nightmare flame. It is small in size, but capable of flight. Its legs and arms are underdeveloped, and its body is covered in fluff. Its eyes are closed, and the head is similar in shape to a teardrop, as the horns are not separated in this stage
Stage II ("Grimmchild") - having absorbed nightmare flame, the vessel grows in size and its limbs develop. The headshape resembles that of the final form, although its body is noticeably more serpentine in shape, and its fluff covering is more sparse. Consuming more flame allows it to continue growing until it reaches its final stage
Stage III ("Troupe Master") - after the previous vessel is consumed by flame, another takes its place. This form is most commonly known as the Troupe Master Grimm, or simply just Grimm. Despite its status as a vessel, it stands equal with the Nightmare King - it is with this body that Grimm is able to interact with the physical world, and so this stage lasts the longest, up to a few months
However, in this form, Grimm requires blood in order to sustain his physiological functions for a longer period of time, as his heart and circulatory system are weak. Similarly, he rarely uses the full extent of his powers, as doing so weakens him and forces him to rest in order to regain his strength. Although he lacks the long tail and the wings of his previous stages, his cloak can move around and warp into different shapes, most commonly into tendrils and spikes
Despite his weak heart, Grimm's body functions as you'd expect - he is capable of consuming and digesting food, and even reproduction (though the body is usually designed to be infertile, as a preventive measure). Interestingly, he is unable to cry, likely due to the unnatural aspect of his eyes
Stage IV - if the ritual is delayed for whatever reason, Grimm's body starts showing noticeable signs of decay. He becomes physically weak, he gradually loses his voice, and he starts shedding fur from his limbs. The flame rages from within his body, and smoke escapes through his wounds. His eyes lose their scarlet color and start leaking, making him appear as if he's weeping. The body eventually burns down, and if this occurs outside of a ritual, the next vessel is unable to consume its flame, meaning it takes a much longer time to grow. Grimm rarely allows himself to reach this stage, preferring to replace the body while it is still in a functioning state, as it makes the entire process much smoother
#hollow knight#gekko.art#feral pk au#au designs#au character bios#hk grimm#troupe master grimm#nightmare king grimm#nkg#grimm#grimmchild
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ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.
this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff
some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.
🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more
soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)
TIP 1) the right click trick
left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.
TIP 2) right click eraser
this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.
TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination
the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.
TIP 4) the gradience
this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)
then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.
TIP 5) superimposter
so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:
i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.
go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare
TIP 6) advanced superimposter
the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque
all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)
TIP 7) "sketch layer"
so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.
now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.
TIP 8) rainbow art
now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.
🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming
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All eyes on you
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Fridolina Rölfo x Reader
All eyes on you II
summary~ Three of your teammates have an eye on you. And they aren’t shy to show you that they want you either.
!warnings! 18+ smut, making out, fingering?, explicit language
They made it obvious, they wanted you. They kept giving you signals and hints but somehow you were just oblivious to their actions.
It started when you joined the team a few months ago. Frido started taking interest in you and helped you move in, putting your furniture together. Mapi and Ingrid took it on them to show you around the city, in the hopes to show you their bedroom eventually.
The move from England to Barcelona went a lot smoother than you would've thought. Your Spanish was still shit but most of the girls understood you and tried to talk back in their broken English. Keira and Lucy were still trying to master the language so there weren't much of use. Frido and Ingrid however were almost fluent in both so they helped with the translating. Mapi was trying to teach you some words but that wasn't going great.
Mapi and Ingrid were and item, everyone knew that and it wasn’t like they tried to hide it either. The couple almost always sat infront of you in the bus. Frido, Ingrid and Mapi took you in and offered you the empty seat in their four seater. Frido sat next to you and even though she preferred the window seat, but she’ll never admit that because she knows you do too, she offered you it.
While you and the Swede were watching a series, sharing EarPods with your head resting on her shoulder. The couple infront of you were having a heavy making out session. You couldn’t help but look up. And maybe you stared a bit too long, okay you definitely did. Ingrid pulled her girlfriend into the rough kiss, she was more dominant than you would’ve thought. Lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed how the couple had separated already and their eyes were now focused on you.
“You like the show?” Frido whispered in your ear. Waking from your trance you noticed how all their eyes were on you. You got caught red handed. With red cheeks you mustered a response, “Yeah- i mean like the uhh the blonde actress is really.. pretty and good right?”. The Barca players laughed at your embarrassed state.
"So you're into blondes eh?" Mapi commented looking at Frido and then you again. "Yeah- No, i like all. All women, blonde, brunette, both uh everything?" you rambled, eyes focused on the protein shake infront of you. "Good." you heard Ingrid say.
When you finally dared to look somewhere other than your shake you met Frido's eyes. And just when you ou thought your cheeks couldn't get any redder “We both know that i didn’t mean that show.” Frido smirked. You tried to hide your face into your hoodie but that only made her laugh harder.
All three of the women were getting more affectionate with you too, but that’s just how the Spanish culture is right. Frido would get you to sit in her lap on movie nights, her hands placing themselves on your thighs. Ingrid would walk next to you and place her hand on the small of your back and sometimes her hand would drop lower, to your ass. To say you didn’t like it would be a lie. All three of them were beautiful and just very hot, you couldn’t deny that. You honestly were flattered by all their attention.
When you scored your first Barca goal, all of the girls were over the moon for you. They knew you had a bit of a rough start, not scoring any goals in what felt like months. But now you’ve broken through that barrier with not only one but two goals in one game. Frido, assisting your first goal ran towards you with open arms. “You’ve done it!” she kissed your cheek.
Walking through the tunnel after fulltime Mapi approached you, her hand resting on your hip. “Scoring looks good on you amor.” she grinned. You hadn’t really processed the compliment and her seductive tone when her girlfriend joined you. “Quite a performance you put on out there. Wanna come over for a movie night later? Just you, us and Frido, you can choose the movie.” Ingrid asked expectedly. It sounded nice and you got to choose the movie, why not.
“Yeah, i’ll be there.” you agreed. “Perfect!” Ingrid kissed your cheek and took off with Mapi who sent a cheeky wink your way. With the couple still in your mind you walked towards your car.
"Be ready at eight, You just look pretty and i'll pick you up." you heard behind you. Frido was stood by her car, her hair still wet from the quick shower she just had. "Okay, thank you!" you yelled back waving goodbye to the blonde.
Frido kept her promise and picked you up. You were debating on what to wear, comfy or classy. Frido said to look pretty so a black dress would do. It wasn't exactly comfortble, it was short and tight but atleast you looked good. So good that even Frido couldn't help but comment on it. "You look fantastic. Don't know how i can keep my hands to myself all night when you're sitting next to me like that." she muttered under her breath, taking you all in. Her eyes traveled from head to toe, stopping at the hem of your dress.
"Well, thank you.. you look very good yourself" you said feeling like a some artpiece hung up in a museum. Frido hummed at that and her eyes met yours again. "Let's go beautiful." Frido placed her hand on the small of your back, closing your front door.
She walked you to her black car, one that suited Frido. It was a matt BMW and you could see that she took pride in it, she drove through the car wash atleast once every few days. Opening the passenger door for you and walking to the drivers seat she sat down. Frido wasn’t one for very loud Spanish music like the other girls in your team enjoyed, she liked background music. A little RnB or Jazz was her go to so that's what played on the background of your conversation.
“Are you excited?” she asked, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear stick, her eyes were focused on the road. You didn’t immediately answer and she took her eyes off the road to take an expecting look at you. “Are you gonna be a good girl and tell me or?” the Swede raised her brow.
“Uh yeah, i’m excited. I’ve already got a movie picked out.” you said smiling. Frido grinned at that and placed her hands reassuringly on your thigh, squeezing it. "I'm sure Mapi and Ingrid are excited too." she hummed and began to move her hand higher. "They've been dying to get some alone time with you, away from all the girls you know" that was new to you. "Oh didn't know that." the blush creeping up on your cheeks betrayed your cool answer.
The car ride felt like an eternity to you. Frido kept her hand on your thigh, sqeezing or moving it when you said something to her. Your teammate was wearing black trousers and a white top, showing off her abs and tits. She was insanely goodlooking, there was no denying that. But now that she's sitting next to you holding the steering wheel like that, focused on the road and one of her hands teasing you, she was beyond attractive.
When you finally arrived she reached over you, stretching for a piece of gum. You could see right into her top, not that you minded, at all.
Both of you stepped out of the car and got into the lift to your teammates apartment. Frido took your hand in hers like it was something she's always done. Leading you to the couples house Ingrid opened the door almost immediatly. "You both look very good. Come inside." she greeted you. And while you walked inside where Mapi waited for you, you saw Frido whisper something to Ingrid.
Mapi was standig behind the kitchen island pouring herself a drink. "There you are amor, been waiting for a while now" she smirked at your flushed state. "Sorry, Frido told me to be ready at eight." you tried to apologize. "Don't worry, the wait was worth it" she walked over to you. "Would you like something to drink?" the Spaniard asked taking a sip from what you assumed was a martini.
The two Scandinavian girls joined not much later, both of them opting for a glass of red wine. They let you choose the movie liked they promised and you settled down. Ingrid pulled you inbetween her legs, you head resting on her chest. Mapi and Frido were sitting to the left of you.
Everything was fine, well you were turned on by the women but it wasn't something you haven't felt before around them. Whenever Ingrid went to take a sip from her glass she bent over, hold you by your hips and her hands stayed there. About an hour into the movie she started to play with the hem of your short dress, you obviously should've wore something more comfortable.
Tracing paterns on your thighs she whispered in you ear, "You wore that dress just for us, right.". Processing her words you turned your head around. "Frido said to look pretty, so yes?" Ingrid hummed at that, mostly satisfied with your answer. Ingrid never stopped teasing you and you couldn't help but rub your thighs together. Unbeknownst to you the three women exchanged glances at the action.
You excused yourself to the bathroom. Ingrid was doing this to you on purpose. They were open about their relationship and sex life but you didn’t know they were so open.
Going back into the living room Ingrid was filling her glass in the kitchen and Maria and Frido were having a conversation. You leaned against the kitchen counter next to the Norwegian, “Can i help you?” you asked. “You can be a good girl and go sit all nice and pretty next to Frido for me.” her hands were on your hips turning you to the couch where the two were sat.
Going to sit down next to Frido you got pulled into her lap, waiting nervously at what they had in store for you. “Are you enjoying yourself bebé?” the Spanish defender asked you curiously. You nodded furiously. “I think you could enjoy yourself a bit more tonight, no?” Ingrid said walking towards Frido who she gave another glass of wine. “You definitely could baby.” Frido took a sip of her drink.
Your eyes followed Ingrid who straddled her girlfriend. Mapi leaned in for a kiss when Ingrid stopped her, whispering something in her ear. The dark haired woman teasingly kissed the Spaniard behind her ear and down to her neck, leaving marks along the way.
Yet again, too caught up with the show infront of you you didn’t see the blondes hand creeping up under your dress. “Hmm do you like watching them?” Frido breathed. She pushed your dress up and teased you over the fabric of your panties. Feeling the wet spot on them she pressed harder. “So fucking wet already, haven’t even touched you.” she kissed up your neck.
You shut your eyes, the teasing they've been doing becoming too much. The woman behind you slowed her movements. “She’s getting all hot and bothered, don’t think she can wait much longer.” she talked to the other women. “Oh, she can wait just fine. You’ll be a good little girl for us, right.” Ingrid more stated than asked. Opening your eyes you nodded.
“Say you’ll be a good girl for us.” Frido kissed your neck, her hands starting to grope your tits. Lost in the pleasure you didn’t answer, “Say ‘i’ll be a good girl for you’ or i’ll stop and you won’t get anything at all.” the blonde demanded. You whined at her dominant tone “I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl for you, just give me something.” you begged.
Frido took that as her sign to slide her hand inside your panties. “She’s so fucking pretty like this.” you heard Mapi say. Frido didn’t slide her fingers in yet, just teasing and lighty brushing past your clit. “J-just give me more please.” you said trying to get more.
You heard the three women laugh at your state. “Haven’t even started fucking you yet and you’re already gone, god you’re desperate.” Ingrid commented from across the couch. Her girlfriend was still under her, both set of eyes fixated on you. “Can’t wait to taste her.” Mapi kissed Ingrid.
“Maria why don’t you get her ready to take a cock then. I’m sure she’d appreciate that, don’t go easy on her though. You know how we want this evening to go.” Ingrid instructed Maria. They’ve been fucking planning this.
A/N setup done, next chapter will be a bit more Mapi and a whole lot more smut so don’t you worry. Feedback would be appreciated :) Got anything you want in the next fic, let me know!
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#engwnt#barca femeni#barca women#barcelona femeni#mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#maria leon#maria pilar leon#fridolina rolfö#fridolina rolfo x reader#woso imagine#woso smut#mapi x ingrid x frido x reader#all eyes on you
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Homie. Darling. Muchaco. Please help me. You're an animator. You've worked in the video game industry. When you get to That One Memory in TOTK (you know which one I mean and if you don't, you will),
Please help me figure out what the fuck is going on with Ganondorf's face rigging
Man, I didn't even need to look anything up: I knew EXACTLY what you were talking about as soon as you said it.
Short Answer: Need more polys.
Long Answer: It's simultaneously a case of limited model structure and potentially some degree of intentional design choice specific to Ganondorf's presentation in this particular game.
Discussion below the jump, just for the sake of not stretching out people's dashboards. No worries about spoilers: none of this is story-relevant.
So! To give a very broad strokes bit of coverage on the wide and varied nonsense that is 3D modeling, this is a case of Topology. The basic thrust is that topology is the overall structure and layout of the mesh that makes up the 3D model's various shapes. The lower the polygon count on that mesh, the more angular its structure and the less capacity for deformation it has. The higher the polygon count, the smoother its structure and the greater its capacity for deformation. The trade-off, however, is that low-poly models are easier for a game engine to render. High-poly models are a massive drain on processing power, to say nothing if they're built inefficiently with a bunch of wasted geometry bogging things down.
Here's an example of a low-poly model on the left and a high-poly model on the right.
So when you want to make a character emote, you're basically grabbing a bunch of those polygons around the face and moving them around to shape the face into the desired expression. If you don't have a lot of polys to play with, it causes folding and tearing issues where the model and its textures do some pretty wonky shit.
Something both BoTW and ToTK have going for them is that they're actually very low-poly games, which is extremely helpful in making the games run as smoothly as they do given the world size and seamless loading. The lighting and texture work do A TON of heavy lifting to make the game look as good as it does. Really look at these models closely and you can see how angular they are. Look at Zelda's outstretched hand or how sharply light falls across the character's features. In the bottom right, notice how you can see the sharp points that make up Zelda's shoulders? They're not rounded; they're angled just enough to give the general illusion of a curve at a glance. Same goes for her eyes; you can count the angles that make up the shape of her eye but, at a distance and at a glance, they look big, round, and doleful.
Something you can also notice is when characters talk, a lot of them have little to no facial deformation. Mineru, for example, basically has a one-hinge Muppet mouth outside of pre-rendered cutscenes. A lot of characters' eyes are basically painted onto their faces and switch between static texture shapes as opposed to being fully rendered and animated orbs modeled into their heads.
Ganondorf actually has a fairly complex character model, especially compared to Link or Zelda, but he doesn't have a lot of model deformation. Basically the only parts of his head that move are his eyes/brows and mouth/jaw. If you look closely around his eyes you can see they're rendered basically as triangles. There's only two or three points along their shape the model can deform at. Further, since the rest of his face doesn't really deform when he emotes, it means the only thing that really moves are those small key elements. Which yields moments like this:
The animators are basically pushing his expression as much as they are actually capable of with this model's limited structure. See the hard fold in the lower eyelid, or the fact that his teeth aren't attached to anything inside his jaw? It does the job though; it overall looks good and, in the moment this scene happens, really adds something to the unsettling nature of what's going down.
I mentioned before that there may be a certain intent as well. Something specific to Ganondorf in this iteration is that, more than ever, he's become an Oni. Ganondorf's character design has slowly been leaning toward more Japanese-specific visual concepts over the past few appearances but he's gone full yokai for ToTK. Not just in his build, but in his clothing and weaponry. Dude is swinging around a kanabo for the first time ever in the franchise.
In Japanese mythology and Noh theater, a Red Oni basically functions as the embodiment of all the worst parts of mankind. They're greedy, brutal, cruel monsters who revel in causing destruction. If you want to look at their good aspects, it's traits like passion, ambition, and a wild spirit. But, overall, they're the bad guys. Ganondorf is 100% depicted as a Red Oni in ToTK. So when you keep that in mind, add in the implications of what Ganondorf just did in that scene, and consider the traditional appearances of a Red Oni...
...then that face-breaking grin makes a lot more sense.
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One of your stronger demon oc’s: hey babe you interested in trying a new kind of foreplay? It’s called demonic possession
Their match: *looking confused* you already possess me though?
[Already talked about Livius with this, so why not good old Santi? Fem reader.]
The incubus laughs.
It's that same old rich, deep noise that had your knees weak the first time you heard it, and still manages to make you warm up briefly. Santi gives you a calm, lidded and loving look, it feels just the tiniest bit patronizing.
" Mm, that I do. "
He swirls his glass of sangria idly. You know he's not going to drink, its only purpose is to match your own set of cutlery, to make it feel as if Santi is having dinner with you, when he's really just keeping you company as you fulfill your basic human needs. You can't really complain about this though, the demon goes out of his way to order excellent dishes for you, and he never fails any of the "human meals in a day", as he put it.
" However- " The world rolls off his mischievous tongue. " I was using the word in a literal sense, love. "
You choke on the steak. " E- Excuse me? "
His head tilts, some sort of realization coming over that pale face when he studies your reaction. " No no, excuse me- I should have explained this to you better. "
Santi steeples his fingers for a moment, pauses, then plays with the glass some more, tracing its golden rim.
" You're familiar with the concept of demonic possession, right? " He starts, tone slightly more serious.
A shiver crawls up your spine, not exactly the most pleasant kind. " Y... Yes. Isn't it something horrific though? It's supposed to hurt! And deform someone's body! It can kill me! Why would you- "
" Easy. " Santi calls, watching your rambling get out of hand.
" Santi, that's insanity! You want to make me crawl the walls and start chanting things?! That arouses you? I don't think my body can- "
" Love. "
The more forceful tone silences you, but by no means is your apprehension quelled. Your appetite seems to fade in the face of possible danger.
There's a sigh from the monster in front of you.
" And this is why your silly little horror movies keep causing a divide in our society... "
That catches your attention.
A less inviting frown sits on Santi's face. " Possession gets an incredibly harmful reputation from your precious Exorcist movies. Each one more ludicrous than the last. "
It's your turn to frown. " Don't sit there and tell me that those things don't happen, Santi! Possession is done for all sorts of things and I'm not stupid enough to buy a lie that it's all sunshine and rainbows... "
You expect him to get even more upset, but instead, the incubus shakes his head, setting the glass down to look you in the eyes. " But it doesn't have to be that way, love. "
He continues when all you do is cross your arms.
" You've seen a hundred movies about demons with ill intent tarnishing the bodies of surfacers... But you've never seen a movie about a demon possessing the person they love, have you? "
Silence. He lets those words splay onto the table like a winning hand in a tense game of cards.
And, truth be told, you have nothing to counter that with. Because he's right. You have never heard of such a thing as possession between lovers.
" ... That's real? "
" More than real. " The high-ranker responds softly. " It's one of the most intimate thing you can do with an infernal partner. " Some of that earlier playfulness shines again. " And it can be so fun. "
You gulp, looking to the side. " It's dangerous. "
" Not if done properly. " Santi's quick to cut in. " A calm, willing vessel and a strong emotional connection will make it a much smoother process than the painful spasms you're privy to in your Halloween hits... "
It seems he has an answer for everything.
" Not to mention, as the bearer of my mark, you already have a little bit of me in you. It wouldn't be your body's first contact with my essence. " He's back to tracing the rim of the bottle, smelling it briefly, sharp pupils watching the berries in it sway before studying you once more.
" Why... Why do you want to do this? " It still sounds strange to you.
The dark fiend is silent for a few seconds, then leans forward on the table, glass set back down so his chin can rest on the palms of his hands. A grin with more teeth than lips threatens to cleave his face.
" Because it gets me really hard. "
... Can't fault him for lack of honesty.
Clearing your throat, you take a sip of your drink so you can think of what to say next. You need to pick your words right or this conversation will escalate to Santi playing with himself at the table.
" I could guess as much. "
" You're still hesitant. " He points out, piercings jingling as he tilts his head.
" I guess... What I'm more worried about is, how long it'll last. What you're going to do. What... What're the terms? "
His brows raise. " Treating this like a deal? How clever of you! Alright, here are my terms. "
Santi straightens, and although his smile is endlessly lascivious and wanton, he speaks clearly and slowly.
" I want to possess your delicious body for three days and three nights. During that time, you can hear, see, smell and feel everything that happens. You can talk to me and you will be given periodic control to perform certain tasks. "
He starts.
" I want to use it for both our pleasure, and I will be having sex with people I determine can service us well. I will not disclose to these people that you are possessed. " There's a beat of silence, before he adds something in forethought. " Although it may look as if some acts will be painful, you have my word that only pleasure will reach you. "
The meaning is not lost on you. " So you want to make me sleep with huge monsters? "
Santi winks, amused to be caught.
" That's relative, isn't it? What monster isn't huge compared to a human? Why I'm fairly huge to you. "
Your eyes roll. " What a charming non-answer. "
The incubus' jovial laugh is almost infectious.
" Come now, we'll see. "
It's your turn to make a move. Wide, blinking puppy eyes are cast towards the handsome demon. " Can't you even give me a pointer, it's my body after all... "
" Is that an agreement I hear? " He hums.
" Answer the question. "
Santi makes a quiet chuckle. " Very well. " Dark knuckles crack, he stares off for a moment, licking his chops. It's the signature look of a pervert looking forward to the near future.
" I have an idea as to who our first bedwarmer can be- "
" Of course you do. "
" I really do. " He snorts, the suave look breaking entirely for half a second where his amusement is so great he cannot help it. Santi waves for you to keep eating, waiting until you have a bite to continue.
" So, there's this bakery close enough, I've been meaning to take you there for a while now because I hear stuff there is divine. Anyhow, the guy in charge of it is really interesting. You know mindflayers? "
The very same bite you just took flies out your mouth, back onto the plate. The incubus stares at it for a second, then wheezes quietly. " Taking that as a yes. "
" Aren't mindflayers... Kind of reclusive? And evil? "
" Well, typically, yes- "
" And this one runs a bakery? "
" That's what I said- "
" What is he selling, brain croissants?! "
Santi barks out a laugh that nearly sends spittle across the table, having to look away from you, clutching his midsection and cackling like a madman.
" That's the thing- " The incubus clears his throat, nearly losing his composure again. " This one is very interesting. He's uhm- I'm not sure what the process is called, but he's a loner. Swore off people brains, or so he says. Trying to make an honest living! "
Slowly, you try once more to finish your meal. " And you want to fuck with him. "
" No... " The way his lips wobble at your deadpan is enough of a tell. " I want you to fuck him."
You make a face at the idea of laying with a mindflayer.
" Mhm, don't look at me like that. " Santi purrs.
Beneath the table, you feel his tail gently loop around your ankle, squeezing.
" Have you never thought about it? What can a lover with such long tentacles do to a cute little thing like you? How will he take advantage of your weak, simple-minded nature to do whatever he wants? "
When you gulp, it's not just because you need to swallow your current mouthful.
" Let me paint the scene, love. "
The incubus seems to be getting short of breath, the thrill of his own lurid fantasy forcing him to bite his lip and trace his own horn piercings with restless fingers.
" You're hardly dressed, the peaks of your nipples poking out a sad excuse of a top and your skirt so short the smallest brush might bare your cuntlips. You're hungry, we're hungry, so you walk into this cozy looking bakery to get yourself something sweet. Oh and many are the treats in that glass display, but the most appetizing of them all is the big man carrying a hot tray from the kitchen. He's tall, a peculiar mindflayer with a strange skintone and unusually thick build, his tendrils cascading longer than you'd expect. The look on his face is one of complete focus as his boots thump softly on the ground. Until he sees you, that is- "
Your attention to this little tale he's spinning is more rapt than you'd care to admit. Not that you need to, Santi can tell.
" His latest client. A human girl with this cute little smile and doe eyes. Mister Roland, you ask so sweetly, I've been told such wonderful things about your talent and pastries. You're oh so charming, so enticing, the poor baker can't deny the thoughts that course through his perverted mind. He wants to bend you over his counter, wants to spread you out before him and force your legs apart with his long nimble appendages. You'd make such a fine stress-reliever to rut into during breaks, wouldn't you? And you'd love getting stuffed full of illithid cock, right? You're begging for it after all... "
" God, Santi- " You mutter under your breath.
" Hm... Maybe all it takes is some simple conversation, letting those fantasies foment in his mind, building into a desire so pungent it would make even me crawl the walls. You tilt your head, kick your legs, lid your eyes and invite him away. He wouldn't mind a little interruption, surely. And then, oh then- With a little bit of my help, you'd turn him into a drooling beast. A species thought so impervious to all sorts of manipulations, all but barely able to think of anything except the taste of your pussy, the hug of it around his cock- He's lonely, lonelier than he's ever been now that he's on his own. You're probably the first thing he's going to fuck in a small eternity. Ideally, we get him here. Want to know why? "
Santi points to the bedroom, where a large mirror resides.
" I want to see him hold you up in those practiced hands and pound you into a pulp with his tendrils wrapped all around you, neck tits thighs, flicking your dirty little clit- Oh he may not eat your brain, but he's certainly going to fuck it out of you. "
" Holy shit, Santi- " You nearly yell.
" Fun, right? I told you. You just have to start believing in me a little more. " He's back to weirdly smelling the sangria.
The silence that follows is thick and heady, he lets you process the canvas he painted for you with a soft rumble of anticipation. You dare not look into Santi's eyes, because the depravity you'll find there will doubtlessly steal your will.
Fork and knife neatly arranged, you push the plate forward.
" I... I want a safeword. "
The way he lights up like a Christmas tree is impossible to miss.
" Of course, love. " The incubus sighs dreamily. " We can pick one tomorrow. Now, if you're done eating, let's get you to bed. "
" Because, after all, you're going to have a long couple of days ahead of you. "
#Santi oc#yandere monster#yandere teratophilia#monster boyfriend#terato tag#monsterfucker#monster x reader#not sfw
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What about dorm leaders with Morticia-like s/o?
Friday, I'm in Love
the dorm leaders with a morticia-like s/o
cw- fem! reader, fluff, mentions of the boy's insecurities, reader being literally the hottest woman alive (author is a goth and loved this)
Riddle
He’s wrapped around your finger and he doesn't even know it
This man sees you for the first time, elegant and refined, and he comes barging towards you
Tries his best to maintain all the manners his mother taught him, but it's so difficult considering just how beautiful and smart you are
Loves dancing with you, especially if you end up guiding and taking the lead, he’ll be absolutely enamored with your confidence
His most favorite thing to do with you, however, is to show you how much power he has over other students, he thinks it’ll make you like him if he’s all big and strong
Honestly you couldn't care less
Tea parties certainly run smoother with you around, because the freshmen don't want to embarrass themselves around a cool and calm young woman like you
In terms of fashion, Riddle appreciates your monotone, sleek wardrobe, even if he desperately wishes you’d wear lower heels so he could appear taller
Riddle’s fiery ambition, and your cool, motherly personality is a combination no one expected
But the two of you know better, the differences in your personality only highlight your individual achievements, pushing you ever closer together
“Dear, you look absolutely exceptional, but perhaps refrain from adding spiders to your hair?”
Leona
Leona loves tough, strong women
(he also lowkey loves women who scare him)
He was first attracted to your confidence, how you turned heads just by strolling past, head held up high and heels tapping
He felt a sense of nervousness he hadn't ever felt before when he tried to ask you out
The two of you are both just so relaxed and aloof, with a hidden romantic side
He puts a considerable amount of effort into your relationship, more than he’s probably ever done for anyone, because you're the most special person in his life
Leona has a deep inferiority complex, and he wants you to know that he can provide for you and be the man you need
You have a natural deadpan sense of humor, and the casually dark things you say often make him laugh
He feels genuinely very calm around you, leading to a lot of afternoon naps
“Why don’t we continue our necromancy discussion after a quick nap?”
Azul
Azul is an appreciator of smooth, sleek and professional aesthetics like yours
By this, I mean he most likely cannot make eye contact with you until you approach him
Your first date is probably a ruinous meal at the Monstro Lounge where he spills his drink all over himself, he gets so humiliated, but you find it adorable
The way he stumbles over himself trying to impress you is so cute, you ask him for another date
The way that this boy worships your every step is noticeable, especially by the tweels, who consistently tease him
The similarity between your clothing is one of his favorite things about you, and he’ll always appreciate your sublime, elevated sense of fashion
“I decided to wear my black tie, to match your dress of course.”
Kalim
Sun x Moon couple, proving once again that opposites do attract
He definitely just saw you one day, thought about you for a week straight and asked you out straight up
Kalim had a bravery other boys didn’t possess, this deeply intrigued you
You tend to make deadpan and dark jokes around him, and he’s never once understood any of them in the moment
He gets it in about 3-5 business days
You give him a sense of order and peace, with your calm demeanor and relaxed attitude, while he gives you excitement, a rush of serotonin you can't find anywhere else
Kalim will complement any new accessory he sees on you, a big smile adorning his face
You two often do your makeup together before events, he usually finishes up first, and watches you because he loves to see the process of your look
“I absolutely adore the clips in your hair, I should buy a pair so that we can match!”
Vil
Power couple
Literally the both of you are so beautiful, everyone on campus turns their head around whenever you walk by
Vil thrives off of attention and compliments, so your affectionate and caring nature is much appreciated
He definitely asks to do your makeup and styling, but backs out when he realizes how iconic your look is, and how he really can't add much to perfection
He will however, help you shop
Anything you want, just tell him, he’ll buy it, he’ll just never admit he’s absolutely whipped for you
The sheer radiance and powerful energy is so much within you two
The jokes and humor you engage in almost break his perfect poised persona, he’s usually not a sucker for comedy, but you bring out his inner comic
“Darling, your red lipstick looks absolutely divine.”
Idia
Was the only one here genuinely afraid of you at first
I mean, you sorta look like one of the villains from his favorite mangas, and he all but avoids you
You find yourself intrigued with the quiet boy, and manage to find his room
Idia is literally about to cry why is a woman in his room??? This has never happened before??? The matrix is crumbling???
You two have a very hushed discussion, and he learns to fear you less
As a boyfriend, he still acts very reserved around you, he fears he might come off as annoying
Just gently ease him into talking about himself and his interests a little more, and you’ll have him ranting about his newest fixation in no time
The fact that you encourage him in his pursuits is something he’s never had before
Idia is actually so amazed by your beauty, he literally pauses and stares at you sometimes
We all know how cool his more formal clothes are, so when he’s inevitably forced to leave his room, he knows he has you to keep him a little more calm
“Everyone here is looking at us, c-can we go home now?”
Malleus
The two of you are an absolutely regal couple, and he knows you are absolutely fit to be his queen
Malleus is attracted to you because of your vast intellect, your cunning nature and your refined taste
(and also because you genuinely enjoy his late night talks about gargoyles)
He makes sure to treat you with the utmost respect and dignity, reserved only for a woman of the court, guiding you gently with his extended hand, dancing with you to slow music, and of course helping you trim your thorns
Our dragon boy knows how to treat a lady, but he might have some trouble picking up on your deadpan humor, and he often just thinks your being serious
Your aesthetics match completely, allowing for the two of you to swap clothing and trade accessories
He knows what he wants in a partner, and you manage to fit completely
Malleus knows people often find him creepy or unnerving, and he knows it's the same for you, there’s a bond formed through your societal isolation
Malleus also makes sure you know he’s in love with you every day, through his kind words and his kinder actions
“Keep me in your thoughts dearest, so that I may become yours forever.”
#reader insert#female reader#fanfic#fanfiction#fem!reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x female reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#vil shoenheit#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia#twst x reader#twst dorm heads#twst dorm leaders#dorm leaders#tsunotarou#vil schoenheit x reader#fluff#fluffy#fluff fic
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I just want to say I love how you do your lineart, it looks so good! ahhhhhhhh!!
I'm gathering a lot of advice about the topic of lineart and I just wanna know how you get it to look like that? My line weight is getting better but the drawing itself just comes out a bit.. weird.
Thank you so much! Lineart is probably the thing I've been working hardest on as I am not a lineartist (and still struggle a lot) but it's something I really need to get better at for my job.
UM there's honestly so much that could be said on the topic of lineart. Big things for me are:
Weight -> Use line weight (aka thickness) to describe form, lighting, contact and scale. Thick lines imply shadow, contact and nearness-to-camera. Thin lines imply tension, recession and light.
Straights vs Curves -> Use straight lines against curved ones for maximum interest. This is partly a character design thing but as we're using lines to describe our characters it's worth mentioning :)
Complex vx Simple -> Use complex lines against simple. Faces are always complex so therefore the backs of heads should always be simple. Chests are quite complex so backs should be simple. Dorsal sides of the arms are complex (Delt, tricep, bicep) whilst the ventral side is more simple (tricep...mainly) etc.
'Think in Ink' -> Lower your sketch layer almost to 0% opacity so you're not getting hung up on how nice/energetic your sketch look and instead are approaching the piece from an ink mindset. BUT it's digital! So if there's something in your sketch that you like just bring it forward (copy and paste) into your ink layer. I sketch and ink with the same brush so I can use this workflow
'Confidence' -> small hesitant feathery lines will look nervous compared to big swooping lines. Less is always more. I'll redraw arms/limbs until I can get the appearance that it was done in one brush stroke. Again it's digital so you can erase to cheat this look : )
MISC 01: I always hear 'draw from the shoulder'........meh............it's digital so draw from your wrist...it's fine honestly. If we were working at A1 in a life drawing class then we could get some shoulder action going but most of us are hunched over 16inch tablets. I think this advice aims to pull people away from feathery-nervous lineart honestly which you can improve on without relearning how to draw from your shoulder.
MISC 02: For a 'smoother' look do your lineart at a larger canvas size than you need. Once I'm happy with a sketch I usually double the canvas size and do my lineart then.
MISC 03: In PS (at least) anti-aliasing goes funny at any zoom level that isn't in the 5 times table. So try not to look at your canvas when you're zoomed in to 87% or 71.39% or something crazy. Just stick to 25%, 50%, 75% and 100% if possible.
UNFORTUNATE TRUTH: Lineart is incredibly based on raw draughtmanship I've discovered. When you're working with colour you can hide a lot in rendering (shadows, highlights) or post-processing (depth of field) but in lineart all your mistakes are just...there for people to see.
There's ways round this...which I use A LOT. 'Flourishes' (I use 'flourishes' to mean over-confident lineart where it veers particuarly thick or particuarly thin in contrast to your approach in the rest of the image) can sort of trick people into thinking you're more confident about an area than you actually are.
As well as leaving 'breathing room' within your lineart instead of actually...resolving the area. I do this the most around the face and hands.
Hopefully some of this helps? Honestly there's a lot of deep dives that could be done into indivudal things and there's also the massive caveat that all of these are 'guidelines' and not strict rules.
I also favour a more...concept-arty? animation-y? storyboard-y? look to my lineart which favours flourishes and breathing room for a incomplete/work-in-progress feel which would make methodical colouring (ie: for a comic or something) a pain.
Keep up pratice is the main thing and doing studies of artists who you like that have great lineart - you'll pick up draughtmanship skills along with the lineart studies. Here's some of my lineart from a year or two ago...it varies between very 'standardised' (which makes it difficult to read volumes and to be honest, it's boring) and 'TOO EXCITING' (which...also makes it difficult to read volumes and for the eye to rest).
I'd like to share my brushes at some point as I've found 3 that I really like and use for everything more or less. I discovered that a shocking low amount of people use PS on tumblr (shocking to me I guess as i'm so used to PS being the standard) and everyone seems to use Procreate or Clip Studio Pro...so I want to check that the brushes are Procreate compatible at least before I share!
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Finders Givers | Part 4
Steve Harrington had faced a lot of daunting things in his lifetime. He’d dealt with a lot of intimidating people, criminals of all shapes and sizes, he’d dealt with the lot of them with a calm finesse that earned a level of respect he didn’t really think he deserved. A lot of it was posturing. An insane amount of right out of the gate confidence that covered up just how much of an idiot he could actually be at times.
The confidence was all those people saw. It was his own people that knew how much of an overprotective dork he was, so it was his own people who felt most at ease around him. Like sure, he had Lola, his baseball bat riddled with nails for intimidation, and sure he’d used it a few times, but only in self-defence, and only against the most unsavoury of people.
The last one was Creel, and he hadn’t even been the one to use it.
Seeing the cause of his current insanity just… there, in the flesh, no longer in a groady fast food place uniform, looking good enough to eat well… he was only human.
Forgive him if he forgot how to word for a minute.
Luckily, once Robin recovered, she rose from her seat, rounded it, and motioned her arm as if presenting them to him.
“Steve, meet Eddie Munson and his roommate Chrissy Cunningham, tenants of the block of apartments you purchased. Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, please allow me to introduce my very own single—” she winked at Eddie, both in reference to his own earlier quip about Chrissy, and because hint hint, he’s pathetically single and clearly pining, Steve’s eyes snapped to her face, although she gave him no time to shut her up as she continued “—platonic life partner, Steve Harrington, the guy in charge.” Eddie loved her already, Chrissy was cutely hiding her smile behind her hand. “They’re here asking questions about the letter we sent regarding the rent forgiveness and renovations.”
The one she’d not looked over. The one Nancy had rushed out. The one she wished she’d have seen before it went out just to make sure she had some kind of explanation ready and waiting should anyone pop by asking questions.
“O-oh! Oh yeah, yep, I know, your door isn’t soundproof hence the uhm—the entrance, I can probably answer a few questions, maybe even get some ideas and opinions from you guys, we don’t wanna go into the renovations not knowing what our tenants need so—” he let the sentence just hang there as he motioned out toward the hallway.
“Wait so you’re not just… doing stuff randomly, you want us to basically ask you for things, and you’ll give them to us?” Chrissy asked, rising from her seat since Eddie was still a little struck stupid over the most beautiful man on the planet and the fact that he was single. Eddie was also trying to figure out where he’d seen this guy before too because that was a face you didn’t just forget.
“Well… that’d make the whole process a lot smoother, right?”
Eddie finally shook his head free of his barnacle-like thoughts to ask a very simple, “Why?” If he didn’t have Steve Harrington’s attention before, he did now, those beautiful baby cow eyes staring right into his soul, warming it up like a soul toaster oven. “Ehem—why are you doing this? Why should we believe that you’re just… doing it for the sake of doing it? Nobody is that philanthropic, especially rich people, no offense but that’s like… the opposite of what rich people usually do.” Toaster oven was just slow enough to let him get those icy thoughts out before they could be fed to it to be warmed and buttered up. God he wanted some toast.
“Key word being usually.” Steve shot back, hazel eyes dancing in amusement, criminally handsome smile on his lips, damn him. “They won’t be palaces, they won’t be penthouse suites or comparable to five star suites, but I’d like to make them comfortable, safe, I’d like to make sure the electrics work, the heating system is up to date and make sure you have all the amenities you could need, I’d ask you not to take the piss with your requests, of course… but… if it’s reasonable I’m quite happy to provide it.”
“And what do you want in return for this?” There was always a catch, a devils contract for sure, too good to be true, there had to be a catch.
Steve looked at him for a moment, smile slipping from his face as he looked Eddie up and down, then… a slow, almost deadly grin seemed to curl at his lips, damn near predatory in its appearance, it sent a shiver down Eddie’s spine, dread licking at his bones.
Evil. That was evil, he was—
“Your soul, Eddie Munson.” Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit ho— “snerk” Steve snorted, that expression disappearing, replaced by one drenched in amusement “I’m kidding! You’re so easy, Munson. I’m not the devil, calm down.” Chrissy was giggling, the traitor, Robin looked exhausted, probably used to the antics, Eddie could feel his heart trying to escape his chest through his throat, could feel his cheeks warm in embarrassment.
“You—you didn’t answer my question.”
“I own where you live, I don’t have to answer your question.” Steve winked at him. The beautiful bastard. “I would however love it if you worked with me here. It’d just be nice for my tenants to get along with me, don’t you agree?” He was like some kind of snake, a sneaky little snake, charming but scheming “I’m also buying a local bar too, I don’t intend to change it all that much but—”
“You’re the one buying the Hideout?” Chrissy’s eyes widened, cutting him off as if she couldn’t help herself “why?”
“I want it.” So simple. He really didn’t have to answer any questions. And if he did answer, he wouldn’t give the full story. Suspicious, he was suspicious. “Owner isn’t staying on staff when the purchase goes through though obviously, I believe he’s retiring to the tropics, so I’ll need new staff, wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who needs a job would you?” A scheming, snakey snake of a man.
Eddie didn’t have to play to his tune though “Nope, I don’t know a single person in this whole world who needs a job right now thanks though.”
Chrissy didn’t share his scepticism though, happy to offer a chipper little “we just lost our jobs!”
“Traitor” he hissed.
“Oh hush, Teddy-bear, he’s harmless!” Steve grinned, oh yeah, totally harmless that one “we know a few guys who’d be great at it too, Gareth has bartending experience, remember?”
“Mixing two cocktails at a house warming party does not count as bartending experience.”
“They were good cocktails though, Eddie, you had like, six of them.”
“And I stand by the fact that each one tasted different!”
“But you LIKED them!”
“That’s not how bartending works! They have to taste the same each time!”
“Fine, he knows how to make SIX slightly different cocktails.”
Across the room, Steve leaned just a little closer to Robin just to quietly ask “is this what we look like to outsiders?”
“God I hope not” Robin knew better though, it was exactly how they looked to outsiders.
“Alright guys!” Steve stepped forwards, closer to the bickering pair. “I have quite a bit to do today as you can probably imagine, so how’s about we discuss this further over… say… dinner?” He could feel Robin’s incredulous stare boring holes into the back of his head. Ignoring it. Ignoring it. “You’re both more than welcome.” He was clearly looking at Eddie though.
“I’m busy” Chrissy was quick to answer before Eddie could object “but Eddie… Eddie is totally free, aren’t you Eddie?” His mouth still open from where she’d beaten him to the punch, now looking between them both in bafflement.
“Uhm—I… uh—heh—no, nope, nope not free, not free at all in the slightest c’mon Chrissy let’s just go home!” He grabbed her hand in a flurry of flustered panic “we’ve gotten all we came to get so thanks for the rent free living!” Steve didn’t stop him as he pulled an objecting Chrissy along with him out the door in a rush “We want a dishwasher!” He yelled over his shoulder as he pulled her down the hall to the elevator, leaving Harrington and Buckley behind, missing the exact moment when Robin whacked Steve around the back of the head with her papers, and called him an idiot.
Part 6
#PirateWrites#FindersGiversFiclet#Steddie#Mob Boss Steve Harrington#No Upside Down AU#Shady!Steve#CW: light-hearted stalker vibes
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Redamancy: Chapter Three
Jasper Hale x Reader
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None
Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!
Word Count: 1131
Series Masterlist
• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •
Reader
My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.
That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.
“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.
“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.
“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.
“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.
“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.
“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.
“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”
“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.
I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.
“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.
“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”
“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.
“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.
I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.
Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.
“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.
“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.
“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.
I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”
“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.
I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?
There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.
I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.
American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.
History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.
Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.
As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.
“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.
“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.
“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.
“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.
“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”
“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.
Next
#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#jasper whitlock hale#twilight fanfiction#twilight#jasper hale fanfiction#jasper whitlock#bless-my-demons#redamancy series#slow burn#female reader insert
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First Kiss || The Bad Batch
Synopsis - Your first kiss with the members of The Bad Batch.
Warnings - SFW.
Word Count - 1.5k.
[Caffeinate Me]
HUNTER had saved your skin yet again. It was becoming a regular thing now, Hunter saving you from yourself. So-much-so that if you had made up a tally of all the times Hunter had saved you, you’d definitely be in double digits. You sighed a sigh of relief and turned around to thank him, only to be met with his lips on yours. You ‘hmphed’ into the kiss as you were taken by surprise, only for Hunter to press his lips further into you, deepening the kiss. When Hunter showed no signs of pulling away from you, you relaxed into his body and your eyes fluttered closed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, kissing with pure need, almost as if your lives depended on it. When he pulled away, Hunter grinned at you and gave you a sly wink forcing your face to heat up. “What was that for?” You asked, smiling widely.
“Just think of it as an incentive to stop you from almost dying on me all the time,” Hunter replied as he moved his body away from yours and turned his attention back to the mission at hand. “There’s more where that came from if you stay alive.”
“Sir, yes sir,” you saluted, watching as he walked away with a dumb smile on your face.
CROSSHAIR sat in the corner of his barracks on Kamino as Omega and the other members of The Batch came up with an escape plan. He placed his head in his hands as he tried to process the situation. The newly formed Galactic Empire had left you all to die on Kamino as they blew the place to smithereens, after all he’d done for the Empire so far and this is how they repay him? You excused yourself from The Batch and sat down next to Crosshair in the corner, your eyes heavy with sadness. “If we don’t make it out of this, I want you to know that despite everything, I still love you,” you whispered, without looking at him. Crosshair was taken back by your statement and looked at you with confusion, his heart fluttering in his chest. He had tried to kill you and you were saying that you loved him? He couldn’t quite process what was going on as you scooted up to sit next to him, your knees touching. Throwing caution to the wind, you quickly cupped his face in your hands and kissed him softly, closing your eyes as you melted into his lips. For a few seconds, it was nice to pretend like your life wasn’t in danger and that Crosshair wasn’t the bad guy. He thought for a moment before kissing you back, his lips moving in tandem with your own easily as his hands went to rest on your hips. When you pulled away, you stared into Crosshair's eyes hoping that you had gotten through to him with your kiss.
“That was nice,” he mumbled softly, his gaze dropping down from your eyes to your lips. You nodded in response before standing up and making your way back over to The Batch to talk about an escape plan. Crosshair was even more conflicted now: does he continue being a good soldier and follow orders, or does he leave the Empire to be with you?
TECH watched as you fumbled around the cockpit, unsure of what to do. You had never been techy and weren’t very good at helping repair the ship so you often just pottered around. You weren’t exactly sure what you brought to The Batch sometimes and it often left you feeling rather insecure. “Y/N, just leave the repairs to Echo and I,” Tech huffed. “Things will go a lot smoother if you don’t mess around.”
“I’m sorry Tech,” you mumbled. You sat down in the pilot's seat and looked on as Tech continued the repairs needed. You were fascinated by his curious mind and the way he worked, you couldn’t deny that.
“Y/N?” Tech asked. “Are you okay? You’re staring at me. Is something wrong?” You snapped back into reality at Tech’s voice and blushed before looking away, mumbling a ‘sorry’ under your breath.
Tech stopped his repairs, eyes narrowing on you as he focused his attention to your bouncing leg. He walked over to you and held out his hand for you to take, which reluctantly you did. You were pulled to your feet and flushed dangerously close to Tech’s body. You looked deep into his eyes as he searched yours for any signs of resistance. When you didn’t move away from him, Tech took it upon himself to slowly and shakily lean in and graze his lips softly against yours. His eyes remained open as he watched the emotions flash across your face. When you closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss, Tech did the same, finally feeling comfortable. When you pulled away from Tech’s lips, you breathed heavily out of embarrassment. “What was that for?” You asked dreamily.
“You looked distracted. I was simply just trying to help you,” Tech cleared his throat and watched as you nodded before turning his attention back to the repairs at hand. You stood still, as if frozen, for a few seconds with your fingers trailing across your lips. He was right, you were distracted, but now you were even more distracted than before.
ECHO had been insecure ever since his rescue from Skako Minor. He often found himself thinking about what his life would have been like had he not been a Separatist project, and sometimes he even found himself wishing he had died at the Citadel. Echo found himself unable to sleep and quietly got up and made his way into the cockpit, hoping to keep himself busy with something to do on the ship. He had been so engrossed in what he was doing, he hadn’t heard your tiny footsteps following him. “Echo, are you okay?” You asked, sleepily rubbing your eyes.
Echo turned to look at you, his face white. He looked as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. When he realised it was just you, he nodded and smiled softly. “I just can’t sleep,” he replied. “What are you doing up?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Heard you get up,” you mumbled. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” he whispered back. You found yourself walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist, something you did regularly when the two of you were alone. Echo felt his heart hammer against his chest and you turned him around to face you. Without thinking, Echo leaned into your touch and sighed happily. Whenever you were around, he always felt complete. “You should go back to sleep.”
“Not without you,” you smiled up at him. Echo was about to protest but you pressed your lips to his softly, silencing him. His eyes went wide when he realised your lips were on his, but he was quick to relax as your lips began to move against his own. His lips, like his body, were cold to the touch, but you were quick to warm them up. Your tongue ran along his bottom lip and Echo felt his face set on fire. When you finally pulled away, you gave Echo a grin and pecked his lips once more. “Let’s get some sleep, eh?”
WRECKER watched as you cleaned the ship. You weren’t much useful on missions so you made yourself useful back on the ship by doing ‘housework’. Wrecker admired you as you continued your cleaning spree, watching the way your eyes narrowed and your lips pursed as you grumbled about the dust around you. “I literally cleaned this space two days ago!” You cried loudly, scrunching your nose up. Wrecker chuckled at your reaction and smiled at your cuteness. When you had finished dusting, you turned to Wrecker to ask for some assistance when you slipped over something on the floor and landed flat on his lap. You looked up at him with wide eyes, absolutely mortified. “Wrecker, I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t be,” Wrecker laughed loudly, his hands resting on your hips.
Everything, from that moment, happened in slow motion. You found yourself staring into his eyes before slowly closing the gap between your faces. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you kissed Wrecker slowly, earning a groan from the giant clone. He immediately kissed you back passionately as your lips met, something he had been dying to do for weeks now. You sat up on his lap pushing your lips further against his, desperate for more. Wrecker chuckled into your lips before he pulled away leaving you completely breathless. With his hands still planted firmly on your hips, Wrecker helped you stand up. “T-Thank you,” you whispered softly, biting your bottom lip.
“Don’t mention it,” Wrecker smiled at you. You sighed before bending down to pick up what you had fallen over: Lula. Wrecker’s eyes widened when he saw his stuffed toy in your hand and grinned. “My Lula!”
You chuckled and passed Lula to Wrecker with a soft smile on your lips. Wrecker thanked you with another quick kiss before pulling away and walking to his bunk, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. Your fingers traced your lips as you watched Wrecker walk away cuddling Lula and you felt your heart flutter. You hoped you’d get another opportunity to kiss him again.
#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch#the clones x reader#tbb#tbb echo#tbb hunter x reader#tbb hunter#tbb x reader#tbb echo x reader#tbb tech#tbb tech x reader#tbb wrecker#tbb wrecker x reader#tbb crosshair x reader#the bad batch imagine#the bad batch imagines#tbb imagine#tbb imagines#star wars#star wars x reader#star wars the clone wars x reader#star wars the clone wars#hunter x reader#echo x reader#tech x reader#crosshair x reader#wrecker x reader
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Because, I Love You | 13
; Genre: Fluff, angst
; Word Count: 2k
; Warnings: References to alcohol use,
; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.
; A/N: Took a long time for this one! It's not very long but...we all love Jungkook being massive heart eyes for his girl, right?
; Masterlist
-
Jungkook paused in the doorway, half in the bathroom and half in the bedroom. Of all the things he'd expected on his wedding night, it hadn't been to see his new wife sprawled on the bed, fast asleep in her wedding dress.
Yet, there you were.
Smiling, he shook his head slightly before he began the arduous process of removing his tuxedo. It looked good, but there were so many damn buttons everywhere. By the time he was in just his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief at the freedom of not being wrapped up like a present.
Quickly, he pulled on some clean boxers and a plain white shirt before turning to you. Now, how did he resolve this?
You'd enjoyed yourself throughout the reception - drinking freely with friends and family alike. Although you were trying for a baby, you'd tested negative (yet again) so had decided to fully embrace the evening. Which you most definitely had, and he'd never seen you this drunk before.
As pleased as he was to see you carefree and happy, he'd limited his drinking because of the twist in his stomach. You might deny it, but he knew that you wouldn't have been drinking as much if the day had gone smoother. If his mom hadn't been a bitch of astronomical proportions. So he'd drank enough to be merry, but no more - he wanted to be sober enough in case anything else happened, or if you needed him.
You hadn't for most of the night, except that moment when he thought you were accidentally going to fall into a table full of empty glasses. Now, though, he was glad that he could think pretty straight. He'd swapped to water a while ago, so he wasn't drunk but wasn't sober either.
Which means he has to make sure you go to bed comfortably. You might be sleeping well now, but he's positive you won't enjoy waking up if you're still in your dress and a full face of makeup.
Sighing, he heads back into the bathroom and is glad that you've both decided to save money by coming back home instead of booking a room for a second night. It meant that all the stuff he needed was right here, instead of trying to forage through suitcases.
Grabbing what he needs from your skincare basket, he shuffles back into the bedroom and eyes you once more. The pillows are going to need washing - he can see the makeup has already smeared on the bedding. Something for later.
"Right, let's get you comfy." He mutters to himself, placing the items on your bedside table before crouching beside the bed. You're facing away from him, so he's got relatively easy access to the fastenings at the back of your dress. As much as Jungkook would love to boast that he got you out of your dress fast, it’s actually him five minutes of quiet cursing and frowning. He's half-convinced they sewed into you the damn thing, but finally, the dress is loose enough that he'll be able to get you out.
"Okay, come on baby. Work with me." Jungkook says, sitting on the bed and gently pulling you into a matching position. You instantly fall against him, your face mashed into his neck and he realises he'll probably need to change his shirt again. Shaking his head in amusement, he presses a kiss to your temple before beginning the process of carefully pulling the dress down your arms.
He doesn't want to cause any damage to it, but it's absurdly hard when you're laying like a dead weight against him. After a few minutes of effort - honestly, he should be a lot better at undressing you by now - he lays you down on your back. The dress is now fully off your arms and shoulders, and he carefully pulls it down until it’s passed over your hips and finally your legs.
"Yes!" Jungkook exclaims, before wincing and glancing back over to you. Why he thinks that will wake you up when he's just been jerking you around for five minutes…well it's always the thing you least expect.
Finding a hanger, he slots it into the sleeves of your wedding dress and fastens it just enough to make sure it won't fall off. He doesn't have that fancy bag it came in, so he takes it into the closet and hangs it up. The bottom of it piles on the floor and he twists his lips in annoyance, but there's not much he can do about it.
Heading back out, he grabs one of his oversized shirts before spending the next few minutes wrangling you into it. It's big on you, something he knew you'd be happy about. He'd enjoyed oversized shirts before, but they weren't big enough to be oversized on you. You'd never said anything, but he'd been able to tell that you were upset you couldn't wear his clothes.
So he'd bought even bigger shirts, and the problem was solved. He got to be comfy and you got to wear his clothes without feeling self-conscious. Not that he told you he'd bought them, instead he'd just dressed you one day and smiled at the surprise on your face.
Now, they were your favourite type of pyjamas and leisure wear. After the long day, he was sure you'd be happy to be in some comfy clothes again.
Grabbing the stuff he'd brought from the bathroom, he knelt next to you, crossing his feet as he rested on them and frowned down at it all in his lap. You needed your makeup taken off - he'd learnt long ago that girls didn't like wearing makeup to bed, and given you were probably going to wake up hungover, he wanted to try and make it at least a little better for you.
Chewing his lip ring, he takes out a makeup wipe from the pack and begins to carefully wipe it along your face. Foundation and blusher and other stuff he's vaguely aware of leave your face and stain the wipe. It takes two whole wipes to get all the face makeup off, and he then has to focus on your eyes.
Now he has to be extra gentle. He's watched you do this many times, and he's pretty confident he can do this. Or he hopes so.
All the pretty colour that had enhanced your eyes transfers to the wipe, and he carefully peels the false eyelashes from your eyelids. He's not entirely sure what to do with them, but he presses them onto a clean piece of tissue in case you want to keep them or something.
Finally, you've got a clean face and you haven't even stirred in your sleep.
"Best husband ever." Jungkook whispers to himself, frowning in concentration and biting his tongue as he wets a cotton wipe with cleanser. Sure, he might be doing this wrong, but he's trying! It's the thought that counts.
Next comes your moisturiser, which he carefully dots onto your face before rubbing it in. It amazes him how you don't even twitch as he massages your face, the moisturiser sinking into your skin to give you all the health benefits you lose. After that, he carefully adds some eye cream to your eyelids and under your eyes - you do this every night, and he does pay attention - before coating your lips in some of your lip sleeping mask. The pot is tiny, and his fingers are big, but he manages to not scoop the entire thing out by accident.
Finally, he sat back and looked over his work. Sure, it probably wasn't as in-depth as you would have done it, but it was good enough. Your skin was clean and had that shine it always did after you'd moisturised, the look of health.
He couldn't help the fact that you were likely to wake up feeling like death, but he could at least make sure your skin didn't suffer for the day's activities. If he wasn't so unsure of whether he might accidentally make you choke, he'd try to brush your teeth as well.
Gathering everything up, he put it all back into their places in the bathroom before brushing his teeth. The movement makes the rings on his finger shine in the light and he can't stop the grin as he looks at them. His friends had thought it a bit odd that he'd got an engagement ring, too, but he hadn't cared. He'd wanted the physical reassurance, and now he had the wedding band to go with it.
If only the day had gone as well as he'd imagined - his anger at his mom was still bubbling underneath everything, and he knew that his therapist was going to have a field day with this when he saw him again. Jungkook knew one thing, though, and that was that he'd never forgive his mom. There were things you didn't do, and today was one of them.
She'd burned the bridge between them both today, and he had no intention of rebuilding it. The last thing he wanted was for her to poison his new marriage and potential future children. She'd had her chance, and she'd ruined it.
Spitting into the sink, he sighs deeply before turning the lights off and walking out. Somehow, you'd managed to wriggle under the covers whilst he'd been in the bathroom and all he could see was the top half of your head, your nose peeking out cutely from the covers. His chest swells once more with love, and he nods to himself.
Yep, he'd made the right decision today. He loved his mom, he did, but he couldn't let her run his life with her venom. Jungkook had a wife now, and one day he'd hopefully have children, who didn't deserve to have someone so cruel and mean in their lives.
Climbing into bed and turning off the light on his bedside table, he shuffles down and lets out a quiet groan as the muscles in his body finally relax. He was young and in the best shape of his life, but the day had been long and tiring.
He’d woken early from nerves, working out frequently to try and shed some energy before the wedding, the wedding itself and then the reception after where he danced and laughed with friends and family. All of that would have tired him out on a normal day - he wasn't exactly Mr Outgoing on the best of days.
But he'd had a lingering tension that had made his body feel like he was standing on a live wire ever since his mom. Despite how everything had carried on smoothly, he'd found himself clenching his jaw and fists many times throughout the night, and his head hurt now.
Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly as he stares at the dark ceiling. His therapist is going to have a fucking field day with all this to unpack.
Blowing out slowly, he rolls onto his side and shuffles closer to you. Normally, the two of you don't sleep cuddled - that's something people who've never shared a bed long-term have done. Your normal positions to sleep were on your sides, back to back. The cuddle was for a few minutes after you got in bed.
But right now, he wanted the inconvenience of it - the dead arm, the overheating, the restless legs and all the other annoying things. Jungkook needed to feel you in his arms, to feel that you were here with him and that the stress and tension of the day were worth it.
Pressing his face into your shoulders, he slid his arm around your waist and managed to wedge his leg between yours. It won't be comfy for long, but he doesn't need long.
As he said, he was tired and he'd always been good at falling asleep. Sure enough, it's only a few minutes before the only sound in the bedroom is the deep breaths of sleep.
#armiesnet#networkbangtan#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader
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